When I woke up at 7am, my bathroom looked like this.
When I left for the airport a little after noon, it looked like this.
We made the decision yesterday - yesterday! - to demo the master bathroom and start over. Yesterday! When there was so much else going on in my mind and heart, I thought I would take "showering" off of my list of "things I do."
Then again, when isn't there something going on in my heart? If I waited until my heart was clear and ready for takeoff each time I jumped into a new project, well. That would be the end of forward progress.
So we tore up our bathroom. (And by "we," of course I mean a team of friendly worker bees.) A very pretty bathroom, you might be thinking. And, yes, it was pretty. And that's about all it was. A list of things it was not include: functional, safe, to our taste, and did I mention functional?
Nothing worked right in the pretty bathroom. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say that my pink living room now has the ceiling stains to prove it, twice over. Some pretty major repairs were needed to make the master bathroom even usable, so we had to decide if we wanted to fix it with a bandaid or give it a surgeon's treatment.
As you can see, we go big.
Also, I'm in total denial. Check back with me next week when I return to Los Angeles and pretend I didn't stash everything from my medicine cabinet in my sock drawer.
